


Brief Interactions with Strangers

by itsbeautiful



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Will, Light Bondage, M/M, Possessive Will, Post-Fall (Hannibal)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-29 03:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5115017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsbeautiful/pseuds/itsbeautiful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Sebastian Stan is himself, Hannibal is a Cannibal, and Will Graham is a sulky, jealous Murder Husband, displeased about being dragged out of their nest to meet Sebby in Vienna, Austria.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SgtBarnesBestGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SgtBarnesBestGirl/gifts).



Wisps of cotton clouds floated idly across a bright blue sky, carried on a light warm afternoon breeze. Light filtered over almond colored awnings striped with chocolate lines, rustling gently in the wind. Grey blue shimmering pools of water gazed back, mirrored behind white lettering stamped on a glass window: _Savoy._ Sebastian pushed unruly wisps of hair from his face, combing it back with long stroking fingers. Two figures rounded a corner, approaching with steady, even strides, in a swirl of color and small shapes in its glass reflection.

Sebastian shrugged on a faded denim jacket, smoothing out wrinkles along a heather grey v-neck t-shirt. He stepped out from a green backed chair, turning to wave at two gentlemen drawing near to the café. They walked side by side in unison, inches of space between them, shoulders nearly touching. An older man raised his hand briefly in greeting with a small smile, soft sunlight glowing through graying streaks. A rust color double breasted suit jacket clung to his frame with sharp lapels and fine stitching, burgundy tie dipping beneath pointed lines of a waistcoat like a blood red setting sun. The younger man shoved a hand deeper into navy blue trousers, eyes fixed on cracks in the sidewalk. A matching jacket was slung over his shoulder in the other hand, lightly patterned paisley tie, a cornflower blue, loose around a starched collar.

“Buna ziua, Doctor!” Sebastian cupped hands over his mouth and called out, smile widening between palms.

(Hello, Doctor!)

A faint smile pulled at the older man’s mouth. A scowl deepened on the younger man’s, eyes flitting up briefly to stare before looking away. A chair dragged across concrete pavement as Sebastian pulled it out, gesturing for the older man to sit as he drew near.

He took the hand offered, strong fingers wrapped around, shaking firmly with another warming smile. “Bună dimineaţa, Sebastian,” A thick accent addressed him with cordial tones of deep blues and grey, undoing a button on his jacket before taking a seat, leg crossing gracefully.

(Good morning, Sebastian.)

Sebastian offered a hand to the younger man. His smile faltered. The gentleman fell into a chair beside the older man, slinging a jacket across another chair. He turned half away and stared at a corner of the table, knees wide, gleaming wing tip dress shoes planted firmly to the ground. Thick black glasses were pushed up on his nose with a single finger.

“S-a întâmplat ceva, Doctor Lecter?” His eyes flitted back to the older man, brows raised.

(Has something happened, Doctor Lecter?)

Maroon eyes slid to the side, studying the younger man with a sweeping gaze of disapproval. Two fingers rested beneath a sulking chin, raising it with a gentle push as Doctor Lecter stared back expectantly at his companion. The younger man’s cheeks burned bright red, pulling away and looking down at hands folded in his lap.

“Nu,” The doctor replied eyes flicking up to meet Sebastian’s with an even gaze, palm flicking over to an empty chair, patting its edge.

(No.)

With a quirk of his head, Sebastian settled back into the chair, gaze flickering between the older man and younger one, fingers curling against his knee. “Ce faci, Doctor Lecter?” He asked softly, lifting a white ceramic cup of rich espresso to his lips and sipping.

(How are you, Doctor Lecter?)

A smile tugged at the older man’s mouth, head dipping in a nod of approval, pleased by the formality, replying, “Foarte b **i** ne, Sebastian. Mersi.”

(Very well, Sebastian. Thank you.)

“Cu plăcere,” He replied with a warm smile, gesturing at a young waitress with a light wave and flash of dazzling teeth.

(You're welcome.)

“I would like to introduce you to my…” Scathing eyes whipped over in a scowl, an eyebrow arcing slightly on the older man’s face, a silent reprimand. “Will Graham.”

Sebastian returned his attention to the younger man after gesturing for two more cups of espresso by raising an invisible cup to his lips and pointing with warm eyes. Pink tinged the waitress’s cheeks, shoving light blonde hair back from her face and nodding, hurrying out of sight.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Graham,” He answered, hands folding open on the table around a warm cup. “How are you enjoying your trip? Vienna is so lovely this time of year.”

A cold stare looked up and then away.

The older man reached over, fingers curling around a loose silk blue tie. The two gentlemen looked at each other steadily. “William,” The formal name fell off the older man’s lips with hints of gentle waves and rocky shores, tightening the tie, and adjusting a collar.

A flinch settled on the younger man’s cheek as the hands pulled away, looking back at Sebastian with a slight up tilt of his chin. “It’s Will.” He glanced at the older man looking back expectantly, voice grating. “A pleasure… I’m sure.”

Steam curled from cups placed in front of the two men sitting across the table.

“It was really so kind of you to fly out on such short notice, Doctor Lecter,” Sebastian replied, tipping his espresso cup in a toast, sipping. “I couldn’t have made it through that scene without your guidance. It really helped me understand what Bucky’s character was going through.”

“I didn’t…” A mumble curled into hot liquid.

Maroon eyes flicked over to Will, narrowing. “It was truly a pleasure to offer my services to you, Sebastian,” The older man lifted his cup to mirror the gesture, smiling briefly. “And after all these years, _Hannibal_ , please.

“Your intimate knowledge of the psyche is truly a gift, Hannibal,” Sebastian replied, informal name unfamiliar on his lips, a brief sharp glare looking up at him from behind a cup. “You truly are lucky to have someone like him, Will.”

“Yes. I am.”

“You’ll have to forgive my companion, Sebastian,” Hannibal set down the cup with a quiet clatter, reaching for a hand clutching the younger man’s knee, squeezing firmly. “I believe he is striving to enunciate the words ‘thank you’ and managing to trip over them entirely.”

“Not tripping. Avoiding.” Will shot a scathing look, pulling away. “Why should I thank anyone who asks you to disappear for two weeks to another country?”

Hot liquid burned down the back of Sebastian’s throat as he tried to swallow down espresso and tension settling in and around him.

“It was terribly kind of you to fly William out the last weekend of filming,” Hannibal answered, leaning back in his chair, cup perched between fingers. “He has spoken of nothing else but how much he was looking forward to meeting a movie star in real life.” The two men stared at each other again. “He admires your character greatly.”

“That is…” Sebastian’s flushed warm with a shrug and a laugh. “Wow, that is such an amazing thing to hear.”

Words fell into rims of a cup, muffled. “Remarkable. Given I didn’t say any of it.”

“You must be jet lagged, William, please drink your coffee,” Hannibal answered in a low voice, jaw clenching for a moment with a pointed stare. “My apologies, Sebastian. It would please me greatly for the two of you to become friends.”

“Not at all! I completely understand,” Sebastian replied with an easy laugh and a wave of his hand. “I’m hardly a morning person either… Will? William?”

“Will.” Deep blue eyes glanced up then over to the older man, a shadow flickering across irises with dark shadows. “Doctor Lecter only calls me William when we disagree.”

“And William only calls me Doctor Lecter when unwilling to acknowledge how _very_ much in the wrong he is.”

“Is… this a disagreement? The two of you are smiling.”

“Generally our disagreements require more sideways glances and half sounds of discontent, _Sebastian_.”

“Or tackle boxes where passive aggressive recipes have replaced all of my fishing gear, _Sebby_.”

Lines crinkled around the corners of Sebastian’s eyes, hiding a smile behind his mouth, setting an empty cup down. “That actually sounds unusually pleasant?” His eyes flickered between the two men smiling at each other behind glowering eyes. “The two of you are a little different, eh, Hannibal?”

“Yes.” They replied in unison.

Hannibal tipped his cup, draining its contents, and leaned towards Sebastian with a faint smile. “I must say that your Romanian is impeccable, Sebastian, very true to form. Regal. Quite lovely.”

“Well, I, uh…” Sebastian fiddled with his cup, smiling, pink tingeing his cheeks. “Jeez, he’s quite the charmer, huh Will?”

A cup slammed against the table. “ _Quite._ ” Will rose with flashing eyes, turning on his heel and stalking away.

“He doesn’t like me very much does he, Doctor?” Brows drew low across Sebastian’s face, staring after retreating hunched shoulders, mouth pulling into a frown.

“William struggles with being a sociable creature.” Blue eyes shot a murderous gaze over a left shoulder, clearly within earshot. “He is often more filled with conversations of his mind than real ones. Intimate moments often fluster him in real life.”

“Well, being uncomfortable around strangers is something I can relate to. I’m constantly being poked and prodded on set by some unknown camera guy or make up artist trying to make sure that I’m within frame.” Sebastian shrugged. The younger man settled against a building across the street, a shadow melting into a wall, sunlight filtering across an upturned face. “Sometimes all you want to do is walk away and drown your sorrows under a warm blanket with a good book for company.”

Dark eyes strayed from his face to the one across the street. “Do you often find yourself shying away from the public’s ever watchful gaze, Sebastian?”

“Not at all. Actually, I adore my work! It’s awesome!” A laugh filled the space between them. “And there’s something so beautiful being immersed by my fans. That’s really the best part of what I do.” A smile pulled on Sebastian’s mouth, running a hand back through his hair. “I think people see me as some unapproachable, untouchable hot shot. But the truth is, getting to know my fans is so rewarding.”

“To be immersed in arms of the unknown is to be accepted fully, truly, for not only the person you are perceived to be, but the person you are beneath skin with true devotion,” Hannibal’s eyes were locked on the younger man’s figure, words spoken between beats of his heart, gazing into faraway eyes staring back with a glare. “Are there any experiences that stick in the corners of your mind?” The older man asked, dragging his gaze away.

“Yeah, I actually just met this really sweet girl during my U.S. tour!” Sebastian popped a piece of blueberry scone in his mouth. It tasted tangy, sweet, and warm. He smiled, offering a piece to the older man.

“Thank you, but I must decline. I am very particular about what I consume as I am sure you recall.”

“Right, sorry!” Crumbs clung to the corners of Sebastian’s mouth with another smiling answer. “Well, anyway, we had this special photography and autograph session for the fans out in Chicago. And this girl came up to me, face glowing, and told me she had a tattoo to show me.” Dark eyes studied his face. “Her excitement became my excitement. It was awesome. So of course, I had to see it. On her right shoulder was this Captain America shield and it was 3D like, as if it was breaking through her skin. Just really beautiful artwork.” His eyes warmed, remembering. “And on the other, was mine, well Bucky’s, the Winter Soldier’s shield. And it was just incredible!”

“Devotion worn upon flesh?”

“Yeah, exactly! I mean... to know someone cared so much about the characters, about the show, that they wanted to have it tattooed as a permanent reminder. That’s what I live for!”

“No better devotion can be shown than wearing our signs of love with visible markings.” Hannibal rose stiffly from his chair, stepping away with elegant grace, eyes flicking to the other side of the street. A navy jacket curled around his arm. “Would you excuse me a moment, Sebastian?”

“Yeah, of course, Doctor—I mean, yeah. Don’t worry about it, Hannibal,” He answered softly, watching as the older man made his way carefully through throngs of traffic.


	2. Chapter 2

Tiny bell petals peeked out from a crack in the concrete, ragged leaves trembling with a light breeze. Its frail green body drooped further to hide from a heated stare from above. Teeth ground inside Will’s mouth with a clink, hands stuffed deep in his trouser pockets. Reverberations of muffled conversations blotted out by rumbling engines surrounded him in cloistering waves of heat. He swallowed down a growl of annoyance rising in his throat, pushing at curls falling into his eyes. He rolled tension from his shoulders, a reminder of cramped luxurious quarters of a first class seat. He had no desire to be here.

“It is terribly rude for you to glare at our friend, William.”

Cold maroon eyes came into focus as Will looked up from the wildflower. The older man stood a mere foot from him, arms crossed, blue jacket curled in his left hand with an air of displeasure clinging to the fabric stretching across his chest.

“Your friend,” Will growled, looking off into the distance, in the direction they had come, longing to stalk away and disappear around a corner.

_Would you follow in the wake of my shadows, Hannibal, or would you remain in the warm, filtering sunlight of foreign consonants of polite conversation?_

“ _Ours_.” An ice cold voice corrected.

Long fingers curled around his shoulders. A sharp shove pinned Will to the side of a concrete wall, shoulder blades burning on impact. Hannibal glowered down as hands wound around a cornflower blue tie swinging at his throat, mimicking the gesture of straightening it. A friendly gesture between men to any eyes falling upon them. Each dragging pull tightened silk. With flaring nostrils, Will struggled to breathe, jaw ticking defiantly, teeth clenching. His blood heated with each gentle tug, eyes slipping from dark eyes to stare at hard lines of a mouth pulled into a threatening growl caught between longing and disapproval.

“It would give me great pleasure…” Hannibal’s breath fluttered at the shell of his ear, stepping in, encroaching until Will could feel warmth of skin radiating and mingling with his own.  “If he were our friend, William. Yours and mine." He choked with another harsh jerk. "Yet you are making such an arrangement terribly difficult to achieve.”

Will’s narrowed eyes slid down angles of the older man’s face, settling on eyes with a withering gaze, words dripping with disdain. “I have no desire to chit chat idly with a man whose name you imbue with light and flowering edges, Hannibal.”

A pang of jealousy stabbed into Will’s heart as a rush of pleasure unfolded with breath shuddering out of his lungs.

“Exhaustion makes you quite insolent, William…” Tips of shining black shoes lightly nudged at rigid legs, stroking beneath a tailored hem of tapering trousers, caressing an exposed ankle.

“No, being shuttled off an airplane..." Will tried to focus on sharpening his voice, attention divided to focus on each circling caress. "...on a few hours of sleep, and dragged out into the middle of a foreign city to play nice with some stranger is what you might consider rude, Hannibal.” His shoe dragged back a few inches. "Especially given I haven't lain eyes on you in nearly three weeks." 

Will inhaled sharply as his legs unconsciously widened to allow Hannibal to step between them.

“Is that what this is about, Will?” A sharp hip pressed into his stomach.

“I don’t want to fucking be here,” Will snarled, aware of his chest heaving, struggling to peel away from an arm curling around his lower back to cage him in.

_I want to go home. I want to be in our bed. I want to wake to your eyes looking back at me in filtering glowing light of sunrise._

“Will…”

“I…”

_I need you to smother me with your mouth, with unspoken words gathering between us, until I cease to breathe._

Breath stuck in his throat with a whine as lips pressed lightly at his throat. It rushed out with a nip of sharp teeth. How long had it been since warm hands had slipped beneath his clothes to pull them off one by one? How many hours had he lain awake each night imagining how the older man’s hands felt wrapped around his thighs, weight of his body crushing into his ribcage? Remembering in vivid detail each suffocating shove into the mattress beneath as knees pinned his hips in place. A cool red tie had wrapped around his outstretched wrists, teeth sinking in to the back of his neck with gentle, searching lips.

“Fuck, Hannibal, let me go…”

_God… don’t let go again._

“ _Language_ ,” A low growl curled at his cheek, nails sinking in. “Or would like me to remind you with all eyes upon us to see, William?”

A strangled sound left Will, cutting off a derisive laugh, eyes slipping closed to revel in a rush of blood pounding in his ears. “It’s pretty obvious to me now…” He growled out with ragged breathing, carefully choosing each word to wound. “You have a _type_ , Hannibal.” He shoved at the wall of the older man's chest. "Why else would you agree to leave me at home?" 

_Is he your type, Hannibal? Have you grown bored of my impolite, ill-bred company?_

"You hate to travel, Will..."

"Is that how you justified this disappearing act, Hannibal? Blaming my social anxiety to release you of responsibility?"

"I spent very few hours anywhere except in the confines of a set consulting with Sebastian and his crew..." A hand strummed at his cheek. "You would have been miserable."

_I was miserable without you._

"Well, I hope you enjoyed every fucking second of it." Will swatted the hand from his face, biting down hard on his inner cheek. "We needed the break anyway."

“William…” Hannibal breathed out slowly, tie unfurling from his grasp, dark eyes flickering with waves of hurt.

Palms settled on his cheeks, pressure warm and steadying. “Stop.” A pained sigh left Will, flattening his cheek into rough concrete, staring at flashing lights of a passing car. “He’ll see.”

_I want him to see._

“Do you not want me to claim you as my own for the world to see, William?” Hannibal whispered softly, eyelids dipping low, hands curling at the nape of his neck to lean in close. “May I not paint the sides of this building with flash shadows of entwining limbs and mouths to elevate its surface to a level of art to display my compassion for you?”

_Show him I belong to you._

“It’s not…” Will’s eyes fluttered to rest on the mouth hovering above his. “I just don’t want to.”

“Are you punishing me for leaving you behind, William?” The older man’s head tilted to the side, voice grating rough stone, pulling back, following his gaze, corners of lips twitching. “Or are you suddenly concerned with what others might think of us?”

Two fingers returned Will’s straying gaze, pushing up glasses slipping down on his nose, forcing him to look steadily back into dark eyes through their flashing surface.

“Sebastian knows I care for you deeply. Would it be so difficult to imagine he would find a physical exchange of affection between us in public endearing?”

 _I missed you, Hannibal…_ A heart fluttered in his chest, arms aching to reach up and pull in, to wind their limbs in a series of inescapable knots. _You left me with only the sound of your voice echoing on a line of static._ He blinked back a sting of tears. _Just take me home. Take me home and show me you're sorry for doing it.  
_

“I would truly enjoy placing my mouth on yours to drink in the taste of fallen snow upon your lips, William.” Thumbs stroked at his lips, parting them. “To remind you my compassion is unwavering in its desire to fill my life with only your beauty looking back.” Will gazed past a shoulder as the older man stepped slightly to the side. “See, pretending to be enraptured by his phone. Sebastian intimately understands a need for privacy,” Hannibal's voice dipped into a low, aching whisper, leaning in to kiss him. "He understands I need you at my side..." 

“ _No_.”

Will’s teeth snapped together stubbornly, anger whipping through his bones. He shoved at the older man’s shoulders, ducking and disentangling from arms hooked on either side of his frame. Dark eyes settled on his face, a faint glimmer lighting their surface as a jacket jerked roughly away, before disappearing into murky depths of detachment.

“Look…” Arms punched into sleek sleeves, dragging over jerking shoulders. “Can we just get this over with already?” Will huffed, trying to stuff down guilt welling up in his throat.

Shoes echoed on the pavement. Will inclined his head in the direction of the sound, to avoid the watchful eyes studying his face with a removed clinical gaze. Sebastian jogged over with a flashing smile and a wave of his hand.

“I am terribly sorry if I offended you at any point, Will.”

“You didn’t…” Will shot a rueful look in the older man’s direction. “Han—“

“There is absolutely no need to apologize, Sebastian,” Hannibal interjected, cutting him off with a terse jerk of his head, a subtle warning threat for silence. "William is merely tired from his trip."

Sebastian stepped close in the space widening between them, smile warm, attempting to break the growing tension with a shrug of shoulders. Will stared at Hannibal with bated breath. Cold seeped through his skin, winding its way to his heart. A hand twitched at his side, begging to reach out and collide their bodies together with force. Fingers curled into fists, jamming them into pockets to hide their shaking. 

_Hannibal… I’m sorry…_

“Hannibal and I can get lost in each other’s conversations and company. If it were me, I would completely understand feeling left out. And I am sorry if I made you feel that way, Will. It was inconsiderate.” A hand settled on Will’s shoulder with reassuring warmth as Sebastian quirked his head to stare up into eyes fixed to the pavement with heated cheeks of longing. “Can we make it up to you with a gorgeous tailored suit?”

“ _We_?” Will asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing, flicking up to meet blue ones dancing with light.

“Come along, William.” Hannibal commanded, dark eyes flicking away.

_Wait…_

Will watched with deflating limbs as Hannibal turned his back with a curt spin on his heel, settling into gentle conversation with the other man. They strode with ease along the sidewalk, side by side in the others stretching shadows of afternoon sun. Thrums of pain settled into his chest, shoulders hunching forward, staring at an empty swinging hand outlined in glittering cufflinks and white starched cotton. He followed, black marks scuffing pavement, a hissing breath trailing out between clenched teeth.


	3. Chapter 3

They were laughing. And smiling. Shoulders and hands innocently brushing as they wandered through silver rolling racks of suits. He felt like an outsider looking at a scene of hushed foreign whispers and exchanged glances. A scene without subtitles. He didn’t need to understand the language to read the way the older man touched a shoulder, steered by an elbow, or leaned in a fraction too close to examine metallic brass buttons on a wool pea coat. Sebastian flashed a blinding smile up at warming maroon eyes as the coat was delicately draped around his shoulders. If Will wasn’t eighty percent certain Hannibal was in fact _his_ partner, he might mistake them as lovers. Hannibal was fucking _his_. And it would be a frigid day in Hell before he let the older man buy gifts for any man other than him. Particularly not his kinds of gifts. Obscene. Ostentatious. Expensive.

Hannibal motioned discreetly in the air. A young shop boy appeared noiselessly. The coat was laid out over his arms before being ferried away to its final resting place in plain brown paper and sleek black bag.

_Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me._

With the way Will bored eyes into the back of Hannibal’s head, it was beyond him why the man didn’t spontaneously burst into flame. His teeth sank against the edge of a tongue to keep a dark growl from sounding, pain spreading red then black. He grit teeth, trailing after with hunched shoulders and glowered at them beneath a fringe of wild curls. The older man had since removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, fabric stretching and coiling over toned muscles gilded gold by weeks in the sun. He felt his nails sinking in the flesh beneath to leave red stripes down a spine. He side stepped a hanging display of patterned silk ties, staring at plaid welt pockets clinging to the curve of an ass. His fists clenched, nails biting and holding tight as he imagined the older man pressed against a glass counter filled with glinting cuff links. His chest drew taut, breath hot in lungs.

Laughter drew him to the present, images twisting. In the back of his mind, he could see Hannibal cupping the side of Sebastian’s face, leaning in, and kissing a sharp jaw line, gently murmuring some audacious compliment as he had done to Will so many times. And god, how heat coiled in the base of his spine and spread red to his cheeks each moment. With Sebastian’s ashen skin, he would look like a blooming dew kissed rose, young and pretty and untouched physically by the world's ugliness.

_And how Hannibal loves to collect pretty things._

Will leaned heavily against a square sectioned bookshelf filled with leather dress shoes, lip threatening to curl up in a snarl. He touched the scar on his cheek self consciously. The hand stuffed in his trouser pocket twirled the cold handle of a switchblade, flicking it between forefinger and thumb. He might as well have been a decorative ornamental display lost in the shop. He stared down at veins stretching blue over calloused knuckles. Perhaps he had gathered too much dust, a novelty worn and faded. Scarred. The corner of his mouth flinched. Or maybe Hannibal saw him for what he had been all along, a weary veneer cracking from within.

The two men were bent at the waist over a gleaming oak table stacked with neatly folded dress shirts. Long fingers swept up an indigo blue one woven with tensile silver pin stripes. His heart rustled at the way Hannibal tenderly touched stitching along the collar, slipping buttons deftly open one by one. The older man liked him in blue. Liked reminding him he was the pull of a roaring ocean with eyes the color of grey blue jagged rocks dashing him to pieces. The knife faltered in his steady grip. He wanted to kiss the hard lines of his mouth. Wanted him near enough to touch. Wanted him with the same intensity that pulled them over a cliff and into his arms.

_I want you to drown in me. Only me._

“The color would bring out his eyes,” Sebastian noted in Will's direction, fingers sliding down a sleeve to admire pearl buttons on a cuff.

The shirt fluttered open in the air with a snap of wrists, ocean waves washing over shoulders to rest on the other man’s frame. Maroon eyes slid to corners of eyes. Will bristled, arms crossing as he dug fingers into his ribcage, staring. He pushed stinging air through his nose to keep from swearing.

An adam’s apple slid up then down with a slow bob, voice quieting. “Don’t you think, Hannibal?”

Hangers clicked on a silver metal rack idly without reply. Will glowered at Sebastian openly. Would he be expected to be polite while sharing all he loved? To step aside and plaster on a smile to allow Hannibal to amuse himself with another? Sebastian swallowed visibly, taking a step back and shivered beneath the icy stare. He looked incredibly frail beneath the dress shirt. Will imagined him painted red, fingers twitching on the blade. The older man plucked a deep charcoal grey wool suit, lifting it to the light. Black on black check plaid shimmered against its matte surface.

Hannibal turned slightly and was gauging him with a vacant expression he knew too well, holding out the garment swinging from two bent fingers. “How do you feel about this one, Will?”

A chin tipped at an angle, the only indication of passive challenge.

The breath he had been holding frayed and snapped. “Like I’ve had enough of you!”

In mid lunge, Will dragged the shirt from Sebastian’s shoulders and swiped the suit from Hannibal. He nearly knocked over three separate mannequins on the way to the dressing room. He was too furious to see straight. He should leave. He should leave and never come back. Leave this place. This city. Hannibal. He stumbled, phantom blade wrenching in his chest. An attendant dressed in a black waistcoat and white shirt jumped when he threw open wine colored velvet drapes. A yellow measuring tape unfurled like a snake to the carpeted floor.

“Is it possible a man can have some goddamn peace and quiet here or what?”

The man quickly retreated out to the front of the shop with a hurried bow.

Will threw open the last stall on the right and pitched garments against a black velvet chaise. The door rattled closed behind him. His fists clenched until they shook. He kicked the door. A black scuff mark remained. He undressed with a flurry of clothes and hands. His leather shoes bounced against the mirror. He crumpled tie and shirt in a fist before hurling them down. He hissed as his elbow cracked against a corner, belt winding loose. The trembling in his hands spread up his wrists, flowed over his heart, and through his soul like a strobing flame caught upon a breeze. His chest was tight, breath difficult to catch. He tried to close his eyes to force out panic cresting his lungs. He knew what he needed. He wouldn’t ask for it. He wouldn’t call out to Hannibal. He slumped against the interior wall. He wouldn’t ask. When they both knew all he needed was a single touch to still the loss rippling through him. To silence the roaring shadows in his mind. To keep him from crumbling. 

He lifted his gaze to find a reflection silhouetted from the bright overhead light, bare chest heaving and fists clenched at his side. A storm of glittering eyes hung beyond dark curls. He looked tired, grey, and fading. Will caught a shadow shifting in the background and inhaled sharply.

 

*

Cloudy blue eyes lifted, widening in the wake of footsteps pounding across a wood floor. “Oh…”

Sebastian stared between Hannibal and the younger man storming off through the shop towards the curtained dressing room. The older man’s entire face darkened three shades, fingers curling one by one before dropping to his side.

“I think…I… was it something I said?”

A corner of a red mouth ticked, thin dispassionate line wavering. “It might be any number of things. Or nothing.”

“Well, Doctor…” Sebastian scrubbed at his chin with a palm, frowning. “It’s certainly not nothing. Maybe I should go?”

“I think not!” The older man snapped.

Sebastian visibly jumped, shrinking before slinging arms around his chest. He had never heard the older man speak above more than a rich melody.

Rigid bones and muscles stiffened, gaze torn from swinging velvet curtains. A sharp chin inclined and swung his direction, forcibly unclenching and relaxing. “I only mean to say we invited you, Sebastian,” Hannibal commented, voice a blur of softening notes. “It would grieve me deeply to have us part ways in this manner.” Maroon eyes lowered, a setting sun beneath fair lashes. “Would you reconsider if I was to speak with Will about his behavior?”

Leaning in, he peered up at a forlorn face. “It’s really okay, Hannibal.” Sebastian placed a hand on a shoulder and squeezed firmly. “A lot of couples fight. You were away from each other for the first time. There’s bound to be some residual tension.”

 _For the first time…_ The older man counted grooves in the floor, heart stuttering mid beat. _I suffocated without him for years._

The young man straightened, plucking a black jacquard tie woven with abstract lines and handed it over. “Instead of _speaking_ with him, why don’t you try asking Will how he is?”

Sighing, Hannibal took the tie and lifted dark eyes, staring at roped curtains beyond. “Those particular conversations were usually reserved for a more professional setting. They have not gone well since.”

 

Slipping through curtains, Hannibal paused and pushed free from mahogany leather shoes and placed them on a chair next to a mirrored platform. He toed noiselessly over plush carpet, listening to a scuffle of clothes and then shoes banging against something. He pushed the silk tie into a pocket, flattening a palm on a wood door. He felt the younger man through its surface, the heat of unbridled skin and the silken dark of a roiling mind. He thought about asking if he might come in. Then how Will might deny him out of spite yet again.

*

_Twining through a crowd of bustling people, Hannibal peered over tops of heads and brimmed hats in search of Will. He skirted discarded luggage at the feet of loved ones greeting. His throat tightened at the fleeting thought of never seeing Will again. A muffled boom of airline announcements was nearly silenced by chatter of conversation. Then he saw a flash of glass beneath a wild mop of wild curls. His breath returned to him as if he had not breathed since the moment they parted._

_The younger man had his spine pressed to a cold marble pillar, eyes closed, mouth twisted to a pale rigid grimace. The people pressing in and around him must have been unbearable. He slowed, eyes sweeping over the form draped in fine stitching and fabric and let out a sigh. Was it possible for the younger man to grow in beauty? He glanced around, spying the nearest green glow of an exit sign. He would escort him through the crowd quickly, lead him to the rattling trains below their feet, and then slide his arms protectively over a smaller frame and drink slowly from a tulip mouth. He would whisper how much he had longed for Will in his absence. How much he had longed for him in the years before their fall._

_Trembling quivered in the base of his fingertips stretching out to touch the angel’s face inclined toward the heavens._

_“Will…” Two fingers pushed silky curls from eyes, slipping to curl around the nape of a neck._

_He was warm. And real._

_Piercing blue eyes snapped open._

_“Don’t…” Will shoved the hand away, shoulders jerking him upright. “…touch me.”_

_*_

The dressing room door pushed open to reveal pale taut thighs shoving in to trousers, wriggling over silk grey boxers and up sharp hipbones. Hannibal’s tongue was heavy in his mouth, throat parched. His gaze flicked over a spine straightening, shoulder blades flexing as arms lifted. His hands twitched at his side, wanting to run them from throat to chest and push open fastened trousers. He wanted to follow the same path with his tongue and teeth, devour until red glistened on their palms and lips.

“Would you…” He cast a tongue over dry lips. “…like to tell me what is bothering you?”

“ _No_.” Eyes flicked up and away, growl fierce.

“Are you certain?”

Will looked up, dark reflection humming threat, pinpricks of blue promising violence. It was all Hannibal could do to root his feet to the floor and gaze back as if his blood didn’t heat in response.

“Absolutely fucking positive.”  

“Then…” Hannibal stepped in, closing the door behind him. He reached for the indigo dress shirt, tracing fingertips lightly across shoulders and down an arm in a circuit of warmth. “I would appreciate you not taking it out on Sebastian.”

“Protecting his honor now?” Will hissed, lashes fluttering at the sudden contact of touch. “Be a little less obvious in your flirtations if you want me to pretend to enjoy this.”

The older man inhaled quietly against the nape of a neck. Hints of patchouli. Salt. And… Another tremor textured flesh in dots. …fear?

“A suit ought to cling to a man like a second skin…” Hannibal mused gently, pressing close, chest to back, molding their forms until Will was enveloped.

He felt a shudder run through the younger man as his eyes closed. He fought the urge to lock Will against him and coil tight until they both struggled for breath. He ran thumbs from navel to clavicle as he fastened buttons on the shirt. He breathed warm against the curve of an ear, dragging arms into sleeves of the soft woolen jacket. He trailed the pointed edge of a tie up knees and over inner thighs before laying it underneath an upturned collar. Air gathered in lungs, chest frozen mid breath, as Will began to tremble.

“And cling to you it does…” The older man tucked in the hem of the dress shirt allowing his fingertips to slide beneath an elastic waistband of boxers. His voice continued to dip, accent becoming rough and thick. “It accentuates…” His own reflection peered over a tensed shoulder, teeth sinking in to a bottom lip. A blue gaze drifted and lingered on jacquard plaid tenting between thighs. “…every part of you. How do you feel about its fit, William?”

A fist whipped around, latching on to the knotted tie at the base of his throat. Will slammed him against the wood stall, boards rattling, teeth glinting bright and victorious. Pain blossomed from shoulders to hips. Hannibal gasped for air, struggling as the tie wound around white blanched knuckles, unable to catch his breath. He kept twitching arms hanging at his sides instead of clutching onto shaking fists or striking back. He allowed himself to be caught, pinned, at the mercy of all he loved once more. He relaxed muscles in his face, hips tilting forward, and smirked.

“ _Frustrated_ ,” Will hissed, eyes narrowing to slits. “With such ease you follow in another man’s footsteps. By his side.”

“This would be…” The older man allowed his eyes to slip closed, arching his neck to ease an ache, voice hoarse and strained. “…terribly ill advised, Will… discourteous to our friend.”

“ _Your_ friend.” Palms shoved.

His head banged against wood. Red and violet coral reefs sparked behind his eyelids. The fist and tie wrenched free. He inhaled a sharp breath deeply, vision filtering in through a black tunnel. A shoulder brushed passed defiantly. He meant to set him free, to allow him to walk out of his life, as he had done so many times before. Ashy darkness breathed out his nose, heart twisting violently. His hand shot out, lashing curls backwards to pin a head against his shoulder. With the other, he twisted a flailing arm behind a back, trapping Will against him.

“ _Must_ I remind you…” His head dipped, teeth grazing hot over the strained line of a neck suspended in his grasp, fingers twisting in curls. “…of our previous conversation not half an hour earlier?”

Pricks of teeth ghosted against a jugular vein, testing a slamming pulse with the tip of a tongue. A groan rumbled deep in Hannibal’s chest. Will tasted of the sea.

Flashing blue slanted up underneath slitted eyelids to glowing red, razor sharp tongue lashing out. “I _wish_ you would.”

A small chirp sounded outside the dressing room. “Everything okay in there you two?”

“Perfectly fine, Sebastian.” Hannibal rose his tone to a soothing pull of a bow across a cello, tightening his grip on the struggling boy against him. “Will was having a bit of trouble with the mechanics of the… French placket.”

Floorboards creaked as laughter floated through the dressing room, sweet and low. “You know I could just come back later? Give you two a moment.”

“Unnecessary.” A growl grated over a pink tongue.

Hannibal nipped at tendons in a throat to silence the protest. Will locked an ankle around his calf, pulling, until he and the older man stumbled back against the mirror. Dark frame glasses dislodged and bounced across the carpet. He twisted the arm tighter, kicking feet apart, and bit down on a throat, sucking skin to a shade of violent rust. The younger man only struggled harder, teeth grinding, panting. His grip tightened, need pooling thick and heavy between his legs. An ass wriggled and bumped against him as a foot tried to throw him off balance again. He swallowed a series of deepening growls. Skin was beginning to flush pink underneath collars and hems. Hannibal grappled to keep steady, to keep from exploring where he knew Will burned.

“You know… being a movie star does have its perks.” Hangers clanked as they were pushed on a rack a few feet away. “If you want, I could just draw a bunch of attention to myself with an impromptu photo shoot and autograph session. I am pretty sure Mauris and his staff would happily oblige.”

A hand broke free, scraping from the nape of his neck to his scalp. He felt welts rising angry and red. He hissed quietly. Will pushed the mouth harder against his throat, chin lifting to arch for more. Hannibal relished the sharp tingle, groaning gently with each tug on his hair, grip tightening as the younger man continued to struggle even as he gnawed and tongued skin.

“A generous offer, Sebastian—“

Hannibal’s smooth tone stuttered out to a trail of smoke as Will fumbled to slip a hand between their bodies and into his trousers.

“...but William is…“

He released a wrist, sliding a palm around a shuddering ribcage and cupped a well tailored cock, squeezing gently.

A low moan rose to the ceiling. “ _Christ_.”

“I-I…” Footsteps retreated quickly, blustering trailing off. “I, uh, I think someone is calling my name.”

Hannibal lifted his head to admire vivid carnations blooming along a throat and down a shoulder, hoarsely whispering, “Must you insist on being so ill mannered in the presence of company?”

“Not all of us had your eloquent upbringing, Hannibal.”

An elbow jabbed between ribs, sending him reeling back into the mirror.

“And I’ve never heard any complaints before. You used to like it when I was rude!” Will whirled around, cheeks scarlet, wild eyes caught between anger and lust. “Or are you _bored_ with me?”

A droplet of sweat rolled from collarbone to chest. The older man felt it balanced on the tip of his tongue as if he had leaned in and licked it off.

“Has my unrefined charm worn off?” Fists swung at sides as the younger man advanced, snarl flashing. “Or would you just rather fuck him?”

“Your imagination…”

Hannibal drew up to his full height, jaw clenching. He dragged Will across the carpet by the collar, heels leaving light colored marks in his wake. He dragged a thumb harshly across an upturned sneer, mouth watering at thought of forcing his tongue passed it and drink deep.

“…is running away with your filthy mouth. Do not consciously misconstrue a perfectly innocent friendship while simultaneously baiting me for attention. I will not be baited, Will.”

Glittering blue eyes eclipsed by a smirk fell to taut seams stretched over his cock. “Seems you’re pretty well baited to me.”

“ _Apologize_.” Hot breath seeped between teeth as Hannibal yanked the boy closer, their noses and mouths nearly touching.

He could almost taste him.

“To you?” The smirk vanished. An upper lip lifted over teeth to spit venom. “Or to him?”

Will twisted the arm at his collar, wrenching free, and stormed towards the dressing room door. It opened three inches before banging closed.

 

*

Breath fogged over the reflection of narrowed blue eyes.

"Is this what you were after? My undivided attention?"

His cheek ached from where it was pressed against the glass. It had fractured on impact.

"It did not require manipulation. Only a request."

He ground teeth until his skull ached. "Fuck off."

The grip shoving against the back of his neck scorched. His palm stung. He was fairly certain it was bleeding.

Points of teeth slid down the seam of a shoulder. “You will finish what you started.”

Will shuddered as a tongue chased after the new series of stings overlapping the blissfully dull throb in his shoulder. He tested the strength of fingers latched at the wrist pinned against his spine once more. It was wrenched tighter. A pang sparked from his elbow to the tips of his fingers and burned vivid light behind his eyes.  

“Are you commanding me, Doctor Lecter?” His dark voice roiled free from a wide, taunting grin. “Or would it be more accurate to call it a demand?”

A bite to his shoulder turned a voice black. “Enough.”

Nails stung his bare chest, buttons freed at some point during the struggle. A palm slid up his throat to cage him against Hannibal once more as another jerked open a button and fly.

“Oh god,” Will groaned loudly, bracing himself with both palms against the mirror.

He shook. His breath came out in rapid white puffs on glass. A palm slid from knee to his inner thigh. He let his forehead fall against the mirror as fingernails dug in, raking slowly up, and moaned.

“Quiet down. Control yourself,” A red mouth warned low into his ear, diamonds grating over glass. “Or I will do it for you.”

Palms disappeared from his wrist and thigh. He felt faint without the pressure holding him up. Heavy arms draped around his shoulders. He began trembling again, fighting the instinct to shove back and force Hannibal to hold him until it subsided. The tie hanging loosely at his neck glided free. He went still. His eyes slipped open a fraction, blue crescents looking out from twining dark branches.

Will watched silk wind over sinewy hands and pull taut, glow of red studying him intently from the mirror. The thin line of black dragged roughly up his throat. He let his head fall back into a shoulder, straining for breath. His heart began to thud in his chest. It pushed at his chin. The younger man sucked in his bottom lip, releasing it with a light sheen, opening slightly. An approving growl brushed at his cheek. The tie dragged over his lips before Hannibal pulled. Points of teeth were stark white against black silk slipping between, breath hitching as lips parted.

He felt the older man’s cock jerk against his thigh, breath balmy and coiling against the side of his cheek. “Lovely…”

Eyes sliding to the side, Will stared at the mouth just inside his peripheral. His toes curled against the carpet. He felt anxiety slipping free from brittle bones and fading. His trembling subsided until he remained perfectly still, bound to and by Hannibal, of his own free will. It was the most comforting form of embrace he had ever felt. He closed his eyes once more, feeling a heart beat thudding against his spine. He leaned back against a broad chest and pushed a content, even breath out his nose. Who knew the sound of his own destruction could sound this pure?

Loneliness stole into amber tones gently whispered against his cheek. “ _Will_.”

The tie slipped from his mouth and to the floor.

Will let out a weak choke as Hannibal turned him in his arms, touch a gentle whisper winding from the curve of his waist up to his face. The older man stared at his mouth, brushing its glisten with the pad of his thumb. The younger man turned his face into a palm, pressed against its tender warmth. He flattened shaking hands against a chest, lost in the sensation of an arm curling around him as fingers slid through his hair. Lips pressed a light kiss against the corner of his mouth to comfort. Will let out a pained sigh. Their violence against one another was kinder than this, easier to bear, easier to cope with. He tore at a waistcoat then buttons on a dress shirt until he found skin. Hannibal pinned him, both hands against wine stained cheeks, and drank from his mouth. The older man pressed closer, arms shaking as he held Will as if he might never touch him again. Tears pricked corners of his eyes and he wound arms around a torso, savoring the broken sighs released from Hannibal and pushed into his lungs with the glide of a tongue.

Red welts traced from shoulders to hips, murmur aching and empty. “You left me.”

Teeth grazed over a swollen lower lip, soft and insistent. “I did not leave you.”

“You left me for another man.”

“Will—“

“For the second time. You left.” Will let his hands fall, curling in and around his chest, shrinking and fading until his voice was a scrape of branches tapping on a window, hollow and pleading. “Was it like Italy?”

 

*

The words bruised violently against Hannibal’s heart. Worse than any physical blow he had ever been dealt. He pulled away, ache blotching crimson then deepening hues of umber and violet as space came between them once more. His jaw clenched to keep from speaking. His fingers twitched remorsefully as they released a crumbling face. The older man braced himself, arms on either side of Will, glass cool against his palms. He let his chin fall to keep from seeing a coiling shadow fracture and burn black outlines of a figure against the interior wall.

“How can you ask…”

When Hannibal finally spoke his voice came out shaking and hoarse, as if his throat had been cut, vocal cords exposed to the bow of a boy bringing sound to the frail beating thing inside his chest.

“Is that what you thought, William?”

“You stopped calling.”

“I was consumed with work, darling.” The pathetic offer fell and shattered at their feet. “I barely even slept.”

He could hear the echo of their lives breaking in the cavernous silence stretching around them.

“You must know what you mean to me.”

He could barely see Will. The boy was a shimmer of light fading in the surroundings. He could make out a faint glimmer of teeth biting down hard on a lower lip. Droplets of rubies formed beneath a veil of black.

“Will, _please_ …”

Hannibal planted forefinger and thumb sharply beneath a jaw and forcefully lifted the face refusing to see him, know him. A soft swear tumbled free from his lips. Tears streaked from wide blue eyes as Will clenched his jaw, teeth sinking deeper in pink flesh, to keep even a single sound from leeching out. Pain creased the lines of his mouth, his eyes, his cheeks. The older man looked down at his palm. It was empty. But he felt the tremor a linoleum knife caught in time buried in the stomach of all he had ever known to call his own.

“The sound of your voice so dim and quiet on the other line was only a reminder of how far from me you were once more…” Hannibal whispered softly, throat closing up in a rattle of desperation. “I could not bear being away from you. When I left you on my kitchen floor, I left a reminder, so as not be parted from what I had come to love so completely.”

Brows twisted and contorted low on Will’s face, eyes flashing up. “You said you wouldn’t leave without me. You couldn't. _You left_.”

In a series of jerking motions, Hannibal forced Will into his arms, flattening the smaller body between his and the wall to keep him from escaping. From walking out and leaving him to another cell with his demons as sole company. Fists balled up against his chest as he held tighter, chin tucked into the crook of a neck. He felt tears spreading wet and hot against his shoulder.

“I was consumed with thoughts of you, Will, of nothing else.”

_Then. And now. And for all time._

A feeble cry muffled against him, knees buckling as Will began to sink. Hannibal latched palms against a waist and held the boy up as he dropped to his knees, forehead pressed to the jagged scar on a stomach. He clutched to all he worshiped, fingers tugging at his hair then brushing down the side of his face to find tear stained cheeks.

“Do you not see how utterly powerless I am against you?” The older man’s voice fractured as a plea broke free from his lungs. “Without you? As I have always been.” As I will continue to be. If you will have me?”

Hands fluttered against his cheeks. “What are you asking?”

“To be merciful…” Hannibal lifted his eyes and drew knuckles to rest against the sullen lines of his mouth, tears in his eyes. “…to the frail man kneeling at your feet and offering a lifetime of devotion.”

“It’s not fair…” Will winced and scrubbed at wet eyes with a wrist, pushing hair back only for wild strands to fall across starlit eyes. “All I wanted was to be alone with you.”

“Is it so difficult to imagine all I wished for was to softly lie you down and make love to you the moment I saw you?” The older man murmured the question against each impression of calloused fingertips, lapping apologetically at delicate cuts in a palm, mouth drifting to a wrist.

“Then…” Will sucked in his lower lip, dragging Hannibal up to his feet, shyly skirting a kiss aimed for his mouth. It landed on the corner of his eye. “Why didn’t you?”

Hannibal caught the hint of a smile before it was reigned in.

“Old world politeness dictated our follow through with a previous engagement.” He nuzzled close, sighing as hands curved around his neck and held on. “And…you would barely let me touch you.”

“I was angry.”

“An understatement.” Hannibal turned his face a quarter, gaze sliding down the point of his nose to a petulant frown. “You threatened to cut off my hand if I tried to hold yours, not once but twice, on the train ride here.”

“I’m sorry…” Pink glowed against cheeks. “It was an idle threat. And I missed you.”

“I have witnessed first accounts of what you can do to a man with a knife. Why is it you insist on showing me how much you missed me at the point of a blade again?”

“I…You're the psychiatrist. Figure it out...” Gentle ocean blue trailed to palms, lifting to inspect every groove and scar embedded in skin, before Will placed a kiss in the center of each. “And I…like your hands.”

“On you?”

Fingertips wound in his collar, reeling him close. “Mmhm…”

Hannibal felt the murmur vibrate against his throat, eyes fluttering as Will trailed kisses from its base to his chin and then to each corner of his mouth. The younger man looked up from a thicket of lashes, their lips nearly touching, leaning in to fingertips trailing over his cheek.

“Only on you?” The older man teased gently. "Or is there some room for interpretation?”

The younger man reddened to the shade of a setting sun, frowning.

“I would like to drink this lovely wine flush from your skin.” Hannibal bent his head and tasted its color against a collar bone, a chest, a rib, murmuring, “Might I take you to our hotel room?”

“No.”

He sighed heavily, straightening. “No?”

“I was promised a suit.”

“So you were. Though another may have to be selected…”

The older man flicked his eyes across rumpled fabric, buttons fraying from plackets, and then to the tie tossed disrespectfully to the floor. It was Will’s whether he wanted it or not.

Will crossed arms across his half bared chest, gaze slanting. “I like this one.”

Without another word, Will shoved feet back in shoes and sidled out the dressing room, shirt fluttering open. He threw a mischievous grin over a shoulder. If Hannibal believed in a deity of any kind, he might have requested one of them to help him. He combed frantically at his disheveled hair and smoothed out his appearance as best as possible before following. There was nothing to be done about the nail marks at his neck. Or the bite mark just visible below his collar. Not that he would dream about hiding Will’s visible claim over him.

“Sebastian.”

Upon hearing his name, the youngest man half turned from speaking with the tailor and then spun quickly around, flushing bright. Will made way around a rack of suits and continued striding straight towards him, briskly, evenly, with a very friendly smile.

“Hannibal tells me I’ve been rude.”

“Oh, I don’t—“ Sebastian’s eyes widened, hands flying up and waving frantically.

Will curved a hand around the back of a neck, fingers sliding into dark fringed hair, hand snaking around a waist. And pulled. Sebastian collided into Will’s embrace, melting, and disappeared behind the taller figure.

“ _Sorry_.” A grave tone murmured against an ear.

“I, uh, uh—it’s okay!” Elbows stuck out to the side, hands palm up, body frozen in place. “It’s okay. Really. Will. Will. I…”

Hannibal inhaled sharply and exhaled it in a glimmer of teeth, setting a neat roll of bills with a threatening tap on the glass counter. “For my fiance’s suit. And his form of an apology.”

“H-h-hannibal, a little help here? Hannibal? Will? Someone?”

He sat down another roll of bills as Will began to slide hands to denim covered hips.

“Sir?” A nervous voice addressed.

“For the damages,” He noted absently, refusing to take his eyes off a corner of a pink mouth curling up into a half smirk. “And any future you are likely to incur.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize! I had actually forgotten about this one shot until a reader prompted me. (That is to say writing and finishing TS kind of took all of my emotion and energy and attentions.) Some post S3 feels for everyone, because well, I'm sorry. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! Feel free to throw any prompts you would like written my way. xo  
> http://hallofmybeginnings.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for SgtBarnesBestGirl, to combine our love of shared and group support fandom, and as a reminder, that no matter how dark the world gets, there is always an escape with warm smiles and good friends. 
> 
> Hopefully I didn't mess up this Romanian translation too terribly, haha. Oh dear!
> 
> Next chapter: Where Will has to endure bespoke suit shopping and glower at Sebby and Hannibal, and isn't happy about it.


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